Spiral
by Maesdream
Summary: Kakashi would never think of her that way - and he's certain she feels the same.  So why are things quickly getting out of hand?  KakaSaku one-shot.  Warning for adult content.


Adult situations ahead - fair warning.

Prompt: Fantasy/fantasizing

As usual, this is _**not**_ beta'd

* * *

**Spiral**

o.O.o.O.o

In all the years Kakashi had known her, he'd never once fantasized about her.

At first, it had simply been a non-issue. When he was assigned to Team Seven, she'd been a child and, despite what at least of one of the many rumors he knew to be circulating suggested about his preferences, he didn't think about her in that way.

o.O.o.O.o

As a young teen, still awkward in both her newly increasing abilities and femininity alike, he couldn't deny wondering what she'd be like as an adult. But it was a fleeting notion, born out of simply curiosity and not anything he spent a great deal of time considering.

To be perfectly honest, he'd had similar thoughts about her teammates as well – would Naruto ever quiet down? Would Sasuke ever come back to them?

And so he wondered; but nothing more.

o.O.o.O.o

It wasn't until a few years later when he _noticed_.

In answer to his unasked question, she had become a formidable _kunoichi _in her own right, nothing like the silly lovestruck pre-teen he'd first instructed. Alternating between lengthy shifts at the hospital and assisting as a medic nin on any number of elite missions, his former student had clearly matured into undeniable competency.

They'd even been assigned to teams together over the years and he was always impressed by her strength and resilience on the battlefield, as he would be by any former student's success.

But now…

Now he was forced to admit that her ability as a ninja wasn't the only thing he admired.

They had already completed the mission and were headed home when his sharingan had alerted him to the incoming attack. The advanced warning gave him precious seconds before it could be detected by his teammates and his instincts immediately took over.

An instant analysis put both Katsumi and Noriko out of range, leaving Sakura and himself directly in the line of fire.

In the blink of an eye he flung himself to the side, easily sweeping Sakura along as he tumbled to the ground, a hail of shuriken decorating the exact spot they'd been standing moments before.

They landed in a tangled heap, Sakura laying half across him, her right leg twisted behind his left, forcing her chest quite snugly against his ribs.

An eternity passed in the space of a heartbeat as his horribly confused brain attempted to process this information.

Since when did _Sakura _have breasts?

"_Sensei_…" the single word was laced with barely restrained fury.

"Huh?" was his terribly intelligent response.

"It isn't that I don't appreciate the assistance," she paused, inhaling slowly, her tone precise and controlled, "but if you don't remove your hand from my ass this _instant_, I am going to remove your hand."

Oh. That.

Something clicked and he suddenly connected the firm flesh beneath his hand with Sakura's backside and he snatched his hand away.

"Heh," he chuckled guiltily, although it truly had been unintentional. "Sorry about that, Sakura-chan."

Though she glared at him as she cautiously stood, checking around for additional threats, she didn't comment further and the incident wasn't mentioned again.

Despite his new and rather unexpected knowledge of Sakura's… ahem… anatomy, he refused to think of her as anything other than his much younger, former student and kept his imagination in check.

And it worked… for two more years.

o.O.o.O.o

He still maintained that it wasn't his fault. An unsuspecting individual who may have been drinking just a little too much and wanted to leave a bar in a hurry had every right to use the back exit.

Although by that same logic, he supposed an amorous couple who, for reasons unknown, chose to use the alley behind a bar as an appropriate place to get personal with each other, had similar rights.

If it hadn't been for what happened next, he likely would have simply shook his head at the follies of youth and wandered home to sleep off the evening's festivities.

"Oooo, sensei!"

Kakashi stopped in his tracks at the sound of the moaning female voice. A voice that, under normal circumstances, he was quite familiar with. However, this was anything but normal circumstances.

And he had _never_ heard Sakura's voice sound quite like that.

"You've been a naughty girl, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have…"

God, her voice practically screamed 'fuck me this instant' and her companion seemed all too happy to comply, judging from the hand that had just disappeared under her skirt.

In the future he would blame the four shots he'd had after the five beers… or had it been six? In any event, instead of disappearing silently into the shadows as he'd intended, somehow his foot got caught on an empty crate sticking out from the wall.

He managed to avoid crashing face first into the street, but in the process of regaining his momentum, managed to kick the aforementioned crate into a nearby metal trash can, sending the lid hurtling to the ground with a crash that boomed like an explosion in the nearly empty night.

The passionate couple broke apart, faces flushed and confused in the dim amber lamplight, trying to discern just what had interrupted their moment.

More mortified than ever, Kakashi ducked his head with a sheepish wave, "Sorry," he muttered, "I was jush-" he cleared his throat awkwardly, "just leaving."

Sakura's hand flew up to cover her mouth as she squinted through the darkness in his direction, "Kakashi-sensei!" she whispered in disbelief, clearly horrified.

And that was it.

Against his will, against his better judgment, against everything he'd fought for all these years, that one word, whispered so soon after hearing it moaned in ecstasy, triggered his first-ever fantasy of his former student. Unbidden, an image of Sakura in a scrap of plaid fabric, so short it couldn't legally be classified as a skirt, bent over his knees, arose in his mind.

Her pert bottom, the one he'd accidentally felt years ago, was thrust up in the air, completely exposed and displaying the lacy red thong which did nothing to conceal her flawless skin or protect it from the smacks he bestowed open-handed.

Fantasy-Sakura moaned and shivered under his touch, the recent memory of real-Sakura's earlier performance giving life to his imagination, "Mmmm, yes, Sensei…"

The clearing of a throat startled him back to reality, effectively dissolving the shameful images from his mind's eye.

Not for the first time thankful for his mask, though this time glad to hide his supremely embarrassed expression, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and with a last murmured "sorry," finally succeeded in disappearing from the alley.

He made it back to his apartment without further incident, trying the entire time to scrub the images out of his head, but it was as though they were permanently etched onto his brain.

This was all her fault – he really had not needed to know that his former student harbored a schoolgirl fetish.

Not that it meant anything – she'd had other teachers over the years, Iruka for one. His fingers clenched involuntarily and he shook himself – obviously the alcohol was getting to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose, attempting to stave off the beginnings of a headache before stripping off his flak vest with every intention of falling into bed and forgetting everything that had happened that night.

The vest fell haphazardly next to the laundry bin and he had just clicked off the small lamp when a soft knock sounded at the front door.

He glanced at the clock: too early for his forgetful neighbor to have locked himself out, plus his knocks tended to consist of drunken pounding. But it was clearly too late for a normal visitor.

The absolute last person he would have expected to find on his doorstep was _her._

Still in the indecent skirt from earlier, her hand frozen in the air from rapping on the door, she frowned at him for a moment, not seeming at all inclined to explain her presence at this odd hour.

Partly because it seemed rude to keep staring at her rack but also because, god help him, there was a part of him that didn't want her to leave, he edged the door open with his foot and stepped to the side,

"Want to come in?" he queried as normally as he could manage, given the circumstances.

She nodded silently and stepped over the threshold, glancing around the small room curiously as she entered.

Trying his best not to look at her legs as she removed her heels, he shuffled around her and shut the door with a soft click. When he turned back her investigation had led her to his scraggly houseplant over which she was currently leaning to inspect more thoroughly.

Holy hell that skirt was short. He sighed and attempted to avert his eyes.

"Kakashi, stop staring at my ass," she demanded.

She finally straightened her back and turned to face him, arms folded with just the hint of a teasing smirk on her lips, "And here I almost believed that incident in the woods was an accident those years ago…"

Who the hell was this? When had she gotten so grown up and so… he narrowed his eyes - so disarmingly perceptive?

She sat down in one of the mismatched chairs at his small kitchen table. He felt like he should offer her tea or something but couldn't quite get his confused brain to cooperate.

"So anyway, sorry about earlier," she threw out entirely without preamble.

Shoulders sagging slightly in relief, he sank down in the adjacent chair – was that all? "Not to worry, Sakura-chan – it isn't the first time someone in this small town's gotten caught in public," he assured her.

Had she really come all this way just for that?

Pink brows furrowed slightly, "Oh, well, I'm sure that's true, I just thought… given the context…" For the first time since showing up on his doorstep, she looked flustered, cheeks flaring slightly with heat.

"I just didn't want you to think anything weird, was all…" she offered, voice trailing off as she studied her brightly painted nails.

Realization crashed into him as he replayed the scene in his head: _'_sensei_…'_ Rubbing the back of his head absently, he caught her gaze, "I see…" he murmured, processing this new information.

She backed away from the table slightly, "See, I don't think you do," she insisted, looking more embarrassed by the second, "I-it was his idea and he said it would be fun, that I should try something different and after all he really is a teacher at a college in Suna, though I kindof suspect he has a thing for one of his students, but that doesn't really matter, considering…"

Her rambling ceased abruptly with a harsh intake of breath, face now surpassing the shade of her hair, refusing to say any more.

"Considering what, Sakura?" his voice sounded low and intense, even to his own ears.

He saw the desire warring with hesitation in her eyes, fully aware that the same struggle was likely mirrored in his own.

"What I mean was…" she flustered, "that is…. just, nevermind." Standing up quickly she nodded at him before heading towards the door, but even with a pre-hangover headache, numerous years of experience allowed him to easily block her path.

Now it was his turn to cross his arms and fix her with a stare. "So, why exactly wasn't it an issue for your date to be in love with his student?"

She muttered something entirely unflattering under her breath upon realizing that he had no intention of letting her pass. She chuckled weakly, "Oh, you know… I'm just open-minded?"

He raised an eyebrow.

With an irritated growl, she shoved at his chest, "I'm not sure what you want to hear, you big pervert, but I'd appreciate it if you let me leave."

Clearly she wasn't using even a fraction of her strength as his torso was still in one piece. He raised one visible eyebrow at her, "Considering what I saw earlier I'm not sure I'm the only pervert here, Sakura-chan."

She rolled her eyes, scoffing lightly, "That's rich…"

He inched closer, "Is it? I'm not the one fantasizing about my sensei," he murmured.

"Well…" her voice trailed off, eyes remaining fixed somewhere around his chin.

Some small part of his brain knew that perhaps he should put a stop to this, but the louder (and more corrupt) portions could only process the unconsciously sexy way she chewed on her lower lip. She wasn't a kid anymore; a fact that was plainly obvious now that he finally allowed himself to actually _see _her.

"You know what," she muttered, "I get it – it's weird. Just let me go."

She tried to edge past him again, but he continued to block her path, even taking a step closer forcing her to back up in response.

"You're right; it is weird," he confirmed.

Sakura made a face, rolling her eyes.

"But if I wasn't interested, I would have kicked you out ten minutes ago…" He watched her eyes grow wide with surprise as he continued to advance until she hit the wall.

Without waiting for a response he leaned in, resting his forearm on the wall above her head and captured her mouth with his, mask and all.

The surprised squeak she let out upon first contact rapidly devolved into a rather pleased-sounding sigh. And that was all it took to blow the last shreds of his restraint right out the window, pressing her more firmly against the wall with his body.

Her body language made it immediately clear that she didn't object, given the way her lower body arched toward his and the fingers that sought out his hair, eagerly pressing against the back of his head.

His free hand traced down the back of her neck, gradually skimming over her bare shoulder and down her arm, enjoying the goosebumps he left in his wake.

The bottom of her thin shirt barely reached the top of her skirt, leaving just enough room for his fingers to sneak in and caress the silky skin of her waist. She let out a delightful gasp against his mouth when his thumb brushed over her ribcage, tantalizingly close to the underside of her breast.

Rapidly losing control of both his sanity and his hormones, he pulled away slightly, glancing down at her brightly flushed face, noting her still-closed eyes.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, the tilt of her head clearly conveying her confusion as she blinked at him.

There were so many questions flying around in his brain; he didn't know what she wanted out of this and he hated the thought of disappointing her young expectations.

With a move that was nothing short of pornographic, her left hip rolled languidly – and strategically - against him.

Well, maybe not so young.

In response, he pulled her against him, and, glad that his head had finally cleared somewhat, managed to successfully transport them both to his bedroom.

He was glad he'd changed the sheets in the last… well, it hadn't been all that long.

In any event, he couldn't remember the last woman he'd had in his apartment, nevermind his room. He always made sure to go to their place. It just made things less… complicated.

But for some reason having Sakura here felt right.

Of course, she was currently pulling his shirt up over his abs, giving him a delightful view of her cleavage, so he couldn't exactly be thinking as a disinterested bystander.

He allowed her to ease the shirt over his head, not noticing where she threw the garment, only focused on returning the favor.

Spinning her around so her back was to him, he gathered the hem of her tank top in his hands and lifted it slowly over her obediently raised arms. And – gods help him – he was faced with a very bare, very naked back. The fact that she hadn't been wearing a bra sent his arousal surging.

Tracing his fingers down her spine, he could see the way her breath caught even before he heard the high-pitched "mmmm" as she pressed her hips towards his.

With a firm but gentle pressure, he edged her towards the bed, her forearms against the sheets keeping her balanced.

The zipper on the back of her skirt yielded easily, the fabric sliding down her legs to pool around her feet as he appreciated the view. It wasn't the red thong he'd fantasized about, but the black lace barely covering any skin was equally tantalizing.

She wiggled her hips impatiently as he ever so slowly inched the black fabric down her legs, trying to caress every inch of skin in the process. The picture she presented, naked and bent over his bed, was quite possibly the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

Stepping out of his pants he pushed the impatient girl further up the bed, settling his already painfully hard cock along the crease of her ass. Her moans intensified as he rocked against her lithe body, his hand snaking down to swirl first around the flat planes of her stomach, and then inevitably lower, pressing and teasing her sensitive core in time with his movements.

Her body was incredibly sensitive, trembling with delight at his every touch.

Sinking his index finger deep in her core, he found just the right spot against her inner wall, pressing the pad of his finger in a rapid rhythm, still stroking her clit with his thumb. As he increased the tempo, her breathless moans suddenly took on a gasping, desperate quality as she cried out her completion, her lower body grinding instinctively as her essence coated his hand.

He turned her on her back, pleased with how her flushed face and still-heaving chest proclaimed her pleasure and even more appreciative of the delicious breasts which had remained hidden until now.

They were absolute perfection, so high and firm, the pale pink tips just begging to be tasted. He glanced at her hair; not quite that pale but perhaps – his gaze fell to the small swatch of damp curls between her legs – yes; that was the color.

Dragging his focus momentarily away from her assets, he found her watching him admire the view. She looked as though she wanted to make a sarcastic comment but couldn't quite bring herself to. She smirked at him and he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

With one hand he trapped both of her wrists, pressing her hands into the bed above her head, before dipping down to grab one irresistible nipple in between his teeth, through his mask.

Her renewed hums of pleasure drove him on, worrying one fabric-covered tip with his tongue before switching to the other.

Underneath him, she squirmed and moaned, clearly loving every moment of her semi-captivity – he knew if she wanted to, she could easily break his hold – so her enjoyment was evident from the simple fact that she was still pinned by his grip.

Her legs, however, wiggled free, wrapping around his hips, forcing her hot core into direct contact with his cock, rocking against him in delight as his length slid and bumped repeatedly into her clit.

Matching her groans, he pulled back, promising himself that it was only his recent lack of female company that had his control drawn so tenuously, then bit his lip as he pressed into her impossibly tight warmth.

She gasped as he stretched and filled her, her usually bright eyes darkened with lust, "Gods, yes..." she murmured, doing her best to match his thrusts with her own, the movement causing her to grip him even more firmly, if that was possible.

It didn't take long before her moans turned desperate again and her hands finally broke free. Her fingers scrabbled for purchase, grabbing at his back, his shoulders, his ass, before finally settling on his hair. Momentarily distracted by the hope that she wouldn't pull too hard, he didn't even notice when her other hand reached for his hair.

Her distracted state must have caused her to misjudge the distance as she completely missed his hair and instead caught a finger in his mask.

The series of expressions that flitted across her face in those next seconds ranged from shock to wonder and finally pleasure as he twisted his hips just so and then kissed her without any barriers. Her keening cry was muffled against his lips, but left no doubt as to her immense satisfaction, the intense pulsing around his cock quickly dragging him over the edge as well with a final powerful thrust.

Both gasping, they stared at each other for a few breaths, her mischievous eyes roaming all over his newly exposed face.

He shook his head in mock-disappointment, "That was a naughty trick, Sakura-chan…"

She stared at him for a moment in surprise before looking away, "It was sortof an accident – I was, uh, a little distracted."

The fact that she was blushing, considering what they'd just done was rather endearing, "I suppose I can forgive you… if…"

He whispered in her ear, causing her to flush even pinker and swat him with a nearby pillow.

"I knew you were the bigger pervert!" she exclaimed.

"So… is that a no?"

She smirked, giving him a sideways glance, "Depends on how flexible you are…"

"Hmmm," he gathered her up and pulled the quilt over them both before settling in. "With the right motivation that shouldn't be a problem," he promised.

"I like the sound of that," she whispered, hooking a leg over his hips.

Pleasantly surprised, he grabbed her ass – intentionally this time – and pulled her even closer. At the rate his fantasies of Sakura were multiplying, it might take years to go through them all.

Then again, given what she was currently doing with her tongue, he didn't think she would mind at all.

o.O.o.O.o

* * *

o.O.o.O.o

A/N

This was actually a contest entry originally, but it didn't turn out very well and didn't get any votes. Oh well, I did have fun writing it so imma just pretend I wrote it for myself ;P


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